Chapter 19

The pair had a light supper and laughed and joked about various topics over a couple of glasses of wine, then Charlotte opened up the hair dye that Betty purchased. It was a rich strawberry blonde that would adhere well to her already naturally blonde highlights. She studied Betty's current cut and nodded her head as well. "Okay, are you sure you want to do this, Betty? I mean, it will eventually go back to your natural color anyway, but it's going to be different."

"Yeah, sigh. I need something different. Do you think you can cut it?"

"Absolutely. I have an idea in mind already."

"Charlotte, you are a lifesaver, you're like the creative half of my brain. I've never been very imaginative. I'm afraid. I've been practically minded since I was five, I think."

"Oh yeah? That young, huh? Did your parents get you your own briefcase then and send you off to the office?"

"Practically. My mother took me with her to the office at times and gave me the very important job of color-coding the files. She also would ask me opinions on her cases. It's one of the earliest and sadly only memories I have of her."

"I'm sorry, Betty."

"It's okay. I just wish that I had more time to bond with her. I also wish I would have had more time just to be a kid, you know."

"I do. I think it's important for children to be told to use their imagination. That part of the brain exists for a reason, I feel."

"Me too, Charlotte."

"Charlotte? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"Your hands are shaking."

"Oh, it must just be the wine, haha, it's fine. I'm really glad I met you, Betty."

"I'm glad I met you too, Charlotte. Now, are you gonna make me beautiful or what?"

Charlotte chucked and said, "You may regret it, but we'll at least have fun. Come on."

They walked into Charlotte's large bathroom, and Charlotte pulled a chair from her vanity in the room and demanded that Betty sit. "Okay, so we're going to do the cut first. I'm going to give you layers, but they're going to be angled around your face. I'll leave enough length so you can still pull it back or even up in your bun you like so much."

"Am I that predictable?"

"Haha, yes, you are, Betty. Let's shake that up, some shall we?"

Betty nodded, and Charlotte began trimming her hair, talking as she went. "So how do you really feel about Veronica posting that stuff on the internet about you?"

"I think she doesn't have a clue about anything concerning me. It also though makes me wonder what she's hiding. What better way to take the attention off herself by using someone else as a distraction? In fact, I think she has more to do with the murder than she's telling. I also think that the Sheriff would be better off questioning her and even searching her residence instead of hanging out at the Cornerstone."

"My thoughts too. She's been awfully coy since the murder happened. She doesn't even seem to be upset about Hanna's death. From what I understand, they used to be pretty close, but that was before the falling out over Kevin."

"Who's Kevin, and why did they fall out?"

"Kevin Parker is Joseph Parker's son. He is …was… Hanna Davis's boyfriend. I don't know how remorseful he is since her death. No one in town has seen him. He's probably holed up in his family's mansion. If I were him, though, I wouldn't step into the public either. There may be either a squad car or a lynch mob waiting for him, one of the two."

"Well, why hasn't the Sheriff looked into this avenue?"

"Because he's Sheriff' stuck in my ways' Walker and this town hasn't had a murder in a hundred years to investigate. He has no clue."

"We have to do something, Charlotte. This could drag on for years. Eventually, I'll run out of the capital to keep the Cornerstone afloat unless we can get the remodel done and the marketing plan executed. Were you serious earlier when you suggested we do our own investigation?"

"Yes, I was. I mean, you're a trained lawyer, so you know things about some criminal activity through your job, and well, I'm a local sleuth who has found out the criminal in multiple kitchen crimes."

"Haha. Well, I think finding the donut thief qualifies you nicely for the position of detective."

"I knew it was Stephen all along. He had powdered sugar on the sides of his jeans."

"For shame. I hope his punishment was swift and just."

"I rushed him out of the kitchen before he could get coffee."

"That's harsh, Charlotte."

"I'm tough but fair. So what do you think?"

"Wow! Charlotte, thank you so much! I look like a completely different person! I love it!"

Betty tossed a few strands of it then stood up and hugged Charlotte excitedly, "It looks so sleek and polished! Thank you so much."

"Just wait for the color, then it will pop."

Betty sat back down, and Charlotte poured them both a second glass of wine while she carefully mixed the hair color and took her time applying to the strands. She wanted to make certain that it was applied precisely and correctly so that it wouldn't damage Betty's thick, young virgin hair. After allowing it to set up, Betty rinsed out the dye, and Charlotte blew it out, styling it as she went. When she was finished, Betty looked into the mirror, and her mouth dropped. "Wow! Charlotte, I look so much better, thank you!"

"Betty, you looked good before, but this just brought out a different set of your features. You can see your eyes better now." They cleaned up their mess, and Betty looked at her watch. "Well, Charlotte… what do you think?"

"Think about what?"

"I think we've got time to get in and out before the service for Hanna Davis is over, don't you think?"

"No way!"

"Yes, way! Now come on and get your shoes… we're going to so see what secrets Veronica is keeping."

Betty and Charlotte left after retrieving Charlotte's digital camera from the kitchen. Charlotte told Betty that she often would experiment in her kitchen at home and post pictures of her culinary successes online. Charlotte was much more up on modern technology than Betty, and Betty realized that in marketing the rebrand of the Cornerstone, she could prove useful that way as well. Betty grew quiet as they drove, and Charlotte noticed the shift in her demeanor. "What's wrong, Betty?"

"Sigh. There are so many people depending on me, Charlotte. When I moved here, I wanted something hands off so I could distress and spend some time working on myself. I wanted a place where I could get back to feeling normal and kinda fade into the background. With this murder, it's out of the question now. Now we have to find who killed Hanna Davis so I can make bed and breakfast successful. Otherwise, I'll have to go back to the corporate grind, and I will have failed."

"Do you know something, Betty?"

"What's that?"

"Just by telling me that much about yourself proves that you're not failing at all."

"If you say so."

The pair rode in silence the rest of the way to Veronica's apartment, where they parked along the front of the street. "Are you sure she's not going to be here, Charlotte?"

"The service started about half an hour ago, so if I know Veronica, she's in the fray of things at the moment trying to get dirt on anyone she can for her blog."

"Well, we'll just have to take advantage of this. Come on, let's go and see what we can find."

The pair got out of Betty's sedan and quietly ventured to the front of Veronica's apartment. Waiting for a moment with their ear to the door, they listened for any signs of life. Charlotte nodded to Betty. Betty stood by the door and fumbled through her bag. She found her old library card from the city she lived in, and while Charlotte kept watch, slid the card in the crack of the door forcing the lock open. Charlotte's mouth dropped in amazement, and Betty just put a finger to her lips, signaling her to keep quiet, then smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

They crept into the apartment and resisted the urge to turn on the lights instead of using the flashlight feature on their cell phones to make their way through the darkened apartment. Betty noticed that the apartment was sparsely yet finely furnished. Betty admired Veronica's plush furniture and wondered how a single woman with no apparent career afforded such a posh environment. They didn't find anything obviously related to the murder in the living room, so they proceeded to pad through the carpeted apartment to the bedroom. Veronica's bedroom was surprisingly neat. Betty noticed a laptop set up on a vanity, which was still powered on. Betty looked at the page it was on, which was her social media, in which she posted about attending Hanna's memorial services at the local Baptist church.

Thinking proactively, Betty took a tissue out of her pocket and wrapped it around her fingertips as she hovered over the mouse, gently clicking the tab on the mouse when the cursor was above 'browser history.' She didn't take any time to go to any of the sites. Instead, she toggled her phone to the camera mode and began taking pictures of the laptop to make sure the history was logged somewhere before Veronica could delete it.

She then walked over to Veronica's bed and, on a hunch, dropped to her knees beside the headboard. Lifting up the edge of the comforter with her still tissue-hand, she shined her flashlight underneath the bed while Charlotte nervously paced by the bedroom door. "Betty! Hurry up! We've been here a while now."

"Just a minute. I have something here."

Betty then pulled out a shoebox and sat up on her knees. She opened the box and looked through the contents. She then began taking several photographs on her phone again. She couldn't believe the contents of the shoebox, and after placing the box and comforter back in place, ushered Charlotte out of the bedroom. "Let's go, Charlotte. This may be more dangerous than we originally thought."

They swiftly exited, being certain to leave no trace of their presence in the apartment. Before the pair could be seen, they then quickly leaped into Betty's sedan and silently drove off. When they were in the car, Betty exhaled a sigh of relief. Their mission went better than she thought. Charlotte was the first to speak after a wide grin crept onto her face. "Betty! That was awesome! We got in and out so easily. Wow. What a rush! Did you find anything good?"

"I'll show you when we get back to your place. Then I should be getting back to my buddy. I bet Beaux Jacques is worried sick. I don't know if this is a good idea now or not, Charlotte. I mean, there may be some really underhanded activity here. We may be out of our league here."

"How can you get more underhanded than murder?"

"Good point."

Betty pulled in Charlotte's driveway and walked with her back inside, making sure they both were on the same page with the story of what they did, just in case they were questioned about the breaking and entering. Even though it looked as if they made a clean break, Betty didn't want to take any chances.

"So, what did you find there, Betty?"

"Well, you can honestly probably tell me more about this than I can surmise. I don't know who any of these people are, but look at this."

Betty pulled out her phone and swiped through the photos she had taken. Charlotte's mouth dropped open at several. "Oh my goodness, I can't believe you found these. I can't believe that Veronica had them. That means the rumors…"

"So was Hanna pregnant with Kevin's baby?"

"No, they already discovered she wasn't pregnant, but it looks like Veronica had been right all along about Hanna not being as innocent as what she made herself out to be. On the flip side, though…it looks like Kevin wasn't as upstanding as he appeared either."

"So, are you going to do with those, Betty?"

"Well… I mean, this is crucial evidence, so I feel that Sheriff Walker should see it, but I know he'll have questions as to where it came from. I'll just tell him a confidential source sent it to me."

"Whatever you think is best, Betty. I trust your judgment. Just be careful and text me when you get home."

"I will, I won't go to see the Sheriff until the morning, I'm sure Beaux Jacques is hungry again. He's a bottomless pit some days."

"Oh, I'd imagine so, he's a big boy. He's such a good dog though, maybe I should get one. He could help me around the kitchen."

"Haha. Well, even though it would probably violate all kinds of health code regulations, you can bring him or her to work if you'd like. I'm pet friendly. In fact, I'm glad you mention that. I think it would improve morale. Also, it was probably really irritating Sheriff Walker's deputies, which I'm all about right now. So when you want one, let me know. I'll go with you to the animal shelter."

"Beaux's a shelter dog? I thought he was a purchased, pampered pooch."

"Nope. I got him at the local shelter, and when I took him to the vet, they said they thought he was a pure breed, so I had them send a blood sample to the AKC, where he got registered and his papers. He is 100% boxer. Anyway, I better get back to him. It's been fun I needed today. Thanks, Charlotte."

"I had fun too, Betty, we'll have to do it again sometime. Who knows, maybe one fine day you and Brannigan can double date with the undiscovered dog and me."

"Haha. Oh, Charlotte! There is nothing going on between Brannigan and me, and enough of that, you're going to meet a wonderful man one day, someone who will sweep you off your feet and make you want to make nothing but desserts."

"Why just desserts?"

"Because most of them are called better than sex something."

"Haha. Oh, go on, Betty, I'll see you tomorrow."

Betty left Charlotte's stoop and slid in her car, involuntarily glancing over at the passenger's seat, which was empty. Betty frowned, touching the seat beside her. Despite the hassle, it was to take Beaux on car rides with her. She loved it when she could hear the beast panting or howling excitedly when he caught a scent in the wind. She also enjoyed the looks she received from other drivers, especially when stopped at red lights. Their jaws would either drop, or they'd break out into a wide grin at the sight of a giant dog, sitting properly in his seat, buckled up next to his petite human.

She turned up the radio to distract herself from missing Beaux Jacques and found a station that apparently played oldies. She was in the midst of listening to an old blues song when she remembered she needed to stop and pick up some kibble for Beaux. She had already passed the exit for the grocery store, so she just decided to stop at a small gas station and convenience store on the edge of town, hoping they would have something suitable. Beaux would just have to make do with whatever was available until she had a chance to go grocery shopping.

Pulling into the Stop n Gas, she looked at her watch. It was nearing nine o'clock. Most of the attendants at Hanna Davis's funeral service would be leaving to go back to their own families. They would probably tell each other tonight they loved each other, as seeing a young person's death seemed to remind everyone of their own mortality. She got out of the car and threw her bag over her shoulder. The store was empty, save an older gentleman standing in the corner, looking over the offerings in the freezer section. He wore a long overcoat and was dressed in a black three-piece business suit.

Betty moved toward the back of the store, perusing the aisles until she found where their sparse selection of dog food was located. She bent over, looking at her options and as she did, the man behind her looking through the cooler spoke to her. "You wouldn't think this little store would have as much in it as it does, would you?"

Betty, attempting to pick out something that her finicky Beaux would enjoy for a few days, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She really didn't plan on having any social interactions. She only wanted to get her dog food and go home. She was tired and wanted to lay down. "Oh no, I'm glad it does, though. Did you just come from the service?"

"Yes, it's such a sad situation with the Davis girl, she was so young and beautiful. It really is a tragedy that I hope this town can put behind it quickly."

"What are you looking for?"

"Oh, the wife simply had to have ice cream before bed tonight, and you know what they say, happy wife, happy life."

"Hah. That's certainly clever. I don't believe I've heard that before."

Betty picked up her dog food bag and walked to where the man was standing. "Can I get your opinion, miss?"

"Sure."

"Do you think she'd like butter pecan or cookie dough better? She's never been a plain vanilla kind of woman."

"Hmm. You mean to tell me you're married and don't know what your wife's favorite flavor of ice cream is? That's a shame."

"She's like any other woman, changes her mind entirely too much."

"Hmm. Well, if that's the case, I suppose on behalf of womankind I can forgive you. If it were me, and you've had a long day as I have had, I'd go with the cookie dough. It's sweet and comforting. She'll appreciate the sentiment."

She took her bag of dog food and began to walk to the front of the store while the man quickly grabbed his ice cream and followed her. "I apologize. I've forgotten my manners. I'm August, August Whitmore. I'm an associate of Joseph Parkers."

"Oh, well, I'm Betty Cornish. I just bought the Cornerstone."

"Oh! You're the new owner…well I must say you're quite lovely. You're certainly more lovely than I was told."

"Oh yeah? Well, I suppose that's reassuring that I'm being 'reported.'"

"Well, Betty, this is a small town and everything's big news."

"You'll have to forgive me, where I'm new here, I don't understand the significance of the Parker family."

"Well, now that certainly is an interesting story. To make it as brief as possible, I'll explain. There's a vast amount of wealth in the Parker family. They have run wineries here since it was settled practically. So it's essentially old money, so to speak."

"So how do you fit into the picture, you said you knew Joseph?"

"Yes. Joseph and I were longtime friends. We went to the local university together when Joseph’s father felt it would help him build character and prove useful if he obtained a business degree. I was studying advertising at the time, and we just clicked. We both wanted the same things in life. We formed a partnership on several projects, and he thought I would be a nice fit to handle the branding of the wine. Eventually, he made me a partner, and the rest, as they say, is history."

They got in line and paid for their purchases while Betty nodded appreciatively at the cashier, who looked as if he were a mix of bored and tired. "May I walk you to your car, Betty?"

"Yeah. That would be great, and thank you for filling me in on some of those details. I must say I was at a loss when everyone was talking about the family. That certainly sheds some light on the situation."

"Yes, now you can see why some people are both afraid to speak of the Parkers and why their entire family is always under such scrutiny."

"So, how does that affect me?"

The older man ran his hands through the tufts of his remaining grey hair on the sides of his head, then looked down at the ground and smiled. "I do appreciate your candor, Betty. It's simple. It affects you because you found the body. It affects you because you purchased a landmark that has been associated with wine and wealth since its creation and inception."

"So, what are you saying, August? Are you suggesting that I need to consult the Parkers before I make any changes to my business? I can tell you for certain that's not going to happen. I don't care how steeped in tradition everything here is, I will run my business how I see fit. I came to this town to get away from my fast-paced life and start over. I'll be damned if I let a dead billionaire or his family-run my world."

"Ah. I think you'll change your mind soon, Betty. You'll see just how influential the Parkers can be."

"Is that a threat, August? I don't take kindly to threats. I will also have you know that I have already told Sheriff Walker everything I know about that poor young lady's murder, which is nothing at all, to be frank. I just hope this business is taken care of quickly so I can complete my renovations and finally go on my vacation."

"Hmm. Well, if you do remember anything about the murder that you've forgotten, the Parkers do request a small favor, that you bring it to their attention before consulting our good Sheriff. He tries, but we find that the problem can be dealt with using Mr. Parker's sizable reach much quicker if you catch my drift."

"Yes, Mr. Whitmore, I think I do. I also think it's getting late, so I should be heading home. You should probably do the same before your wife's ice cream melts. It would be a pity for her to enjoy her ice cream in the bottom of a bag only."

"Touché, then Ms. Cornish. I'll be seeing you around, you can be assured of that."

"Yes, I'll see you around town, Mr. Whitmore, that is if you do decide to come out of the tower in Parker's castle."

"Haha! Oh, Betty, you do know how to turn a phrase. You should be a lawyer, has anyone ever told you that?"

"Lots of times. Good evening, August."

Betty got in her car and turned up the radio, finding a distant heavy metal station to listen to. When she found herself in a certain mood, the heavy percussion and blaring guitar riffs soothed her more than Beaux could. She decided that she would go the long way home and took an exit to the interstate, which would circle back around into the opposite end of town. She opened the moon roof on her car and turned up the music even louder, accelerating and letting the cool night air hit her skin. She couldn't believe the audacity of August. He not only had the nerve to insinuate she knew more than she was letting on, but he also had the nerve to threaten her business. She wouldn't give in to his demands, though. She knew that she had gotten herself in deep in the investigation and could be out of her league. Sighing, she wiped her eyes and felt moisture. Betty hadn't allowed herself to cry for years. The longer she drove, the faster the tears fell. She only wanted a vacation from her life, now she was overwhelmed and found herself angry, sad, and lonely. As she circled back into town, she decided first thing in the morning she would present her new evidence to Sheriff Walker, then wash her hands of the investigation.